One Summer Morning
by Xirysa
Summary: A few months post-FE7. In which Kent is irritable and Sain... Is Sain.


**Xirysa Says:** I hate writing in first person, so this is probably rather wonky. Oh well—it's Sain, after all; what else would you expect from someone like him?

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One Summer Morning

-x-x-x-

It has been nearly three months since we came home from our journey, and I still can't believe that barely anything in Caelin has changed since we first left nearly two years ago. The fields are still tended, the crops are still harvested, the cows are still being milked. Merchants still hawk their wares on market day, the soldiers still protect and patrol the city…

And Kent still pines for Lady Lyndis.

It is quite a sad thing to watch, even more so because I know that their feelings for each other are mutual. But Lady Lyndis does not reach out to him for fear of rejection, and Kent—stubborn, hard-headed fool that he is—is convinced that it is not his place to have such affection for her,

Speak of the devil, here is Kent, now. I raise my hand in greeting and wish him a good morning. He nods curtly and asks why I am not at my post and says something along the lines of how I must follow my duty and other things I don't bother paying attention to. How so very like him.

I shrug. It is a beautiful and rather warm summer morning and I, like any other sane person, have planned to take full advantage of the weather. Kent's ever present frown deepens when he looks at the pile of armor (which is a beautifully distinctive shade of green, if I do say so myself) beside me. The fact that I'm not wearing my boots and that my sleeves and pant legs are rolled up as far as they will go doesn't help either, since Kent's belief is that one should not show more skin that in necessary. (Oddly enough, however, I do not see him voicing any protests to Lady Lyn's Sacaen clothing, which shows far more than I would ever wear.) Kent, on the other hand, is in full battle regalia: his armor, boots, a thick long-sleeved shirt, and sensible trousers. He must be sweltering with all of it on.

Actually… I watch Kent's face closely for a moment and, sure enough, a small amount of perspiration beads his brow. I grin. Kent is not amused.

"Kent," I say just before he begins to admonish me again (aside from watching Lady Lyn, scolding me seems to be Kent's favorite activity), "what are you doing?"

The man doesn't even bat an eyelash. "Scolding you, of course, as I have done every day for the past six years and will most likely do for the rest of my life."

I tsk. "Sounds terrible—I bet it must get rather annoying after a while." I close my eyes, lean back, and lie on the warm grass, my arms pillowing my head. The morning sun feels nice on my face.

"There is a very, very fine line between annoying and blatantly aggravating." Kent's voice sounds decidedly very weary, and as I mentally congratulate him for having the patience to put up with me, I decide to try his patience once more.

"But Keennnt," I whine, "you love me!"

I almost don't hear Kent's answer—"You wish."—because it's so soft, but I do notice the wistfulness behind it; I know he isn't talking about me. I sigh and sit up. This has gone on long enough.

"Kent." He looks at me, and I stare at him for an entire minute before I finally say something:

"You're an idiot."

Surprisingly, Kent nods and moves closer until he's standing right beside me. "I know," he says, "I know. She's my liege, for Elimine's sake! She could so much better than me."

"I see." I am quiet for a minute, and look at the grass. There's nothing terribly interesting about it (aside from a ladybug that is quite a spectacular shade of red), but staring at Kent at this point won't do at all.

Once I'm fairly certain Kent isn't watching me anymore—which I know he isn't because I can't feel his eyes boring a hole into the top of my skull—I reach out one hand, wrap it around his ankle, and pull.

Kent falls down in a rather undignified heap of red armor, his lance cracking rather unceremoniously across the top of his head. I feel rather bad about adding insult to injury, but… It's for Kent's own good.

"You really are an idiot," I say as he splutters indignantly at me; I think, after that whack with the lance, his mind is temporarily incapable of functioning properly. "For one thing, you're wearing trousers, a full sleeved shirt, boots, _and_ your armor in this weather—and even though it's not nearly as hot as the Nabata Desert, it's still possible for you to get heatstroke." He scowls again, but I continue anyway. "And I don't know if you've realized it yet, Kent, but… Lady Lyn loves you."

After this last statement, Kent's mouth is opening and closing rather humorously, giving my friend the appearance of a large red and shiny fish, but I can't make myself to laugh at him. The poor man is so obviously distraught about something…

"What are you blubbing about now, fish man?" I joke weakly—I don't even care that _blubbing_ may not be an actual word.

His mouth snaps close, mouth pressed into a thin white line. "Don't say that," he hisses in a voice I've never heard him use before. Frankly speaking, it's frightening.

"Say what?" I try to put a hand on his shoulder, but he shrugs away from me. How odd. "Look, Kent, I'm sorry about the fish jibe…"

"Not that." He's sitting with his back turned to me, now, and for a moment I'm struck by how much like a child Kent is acting. "You said something before—never say that around me again."

I scratch my chin thoughtfully. "Aside from calling you a fish man, the only thing I recall saying was that Lady Lyndis loves you." When Kent stiffens, I know that I've hit the mark. I scoot closer to him and throw my arm and his shoulder in what I hope is a comforting way—with Kent, sometimes you can't tell. "It's true, partner, but it's not a bad thing, you know…"

"But it _is_ a bad thing, Sain," Kent tells me. "I am her knight. I shouldn't be thinking these thoughts about her. Oh, if anyone knew…"

I raise my eyebrows. "Knew what, exactly?"

For a while, Kent does not say anything. When he does speak again, his voice his soft, and I have to strain to hear him. "Sometimes, Sain, I dream about her. I dream about her a lot."

"Dreams? Kent, is that what this is all about?" I laugh and clap him on the back. "My good man, it is the duty of men such as ourselves to dream of the women we love. Why, the other day, I had a most wonderful dream about our lovely Dame Florina, and—"

"Please, Sain, I really don't want to talk about it."

"Don't tell me it was a—Elimine forbid!—_scandalous_ dream, Kent!" I chuckle softly to myself. "At least it's reassuring to know that you're a man of flesh and blood like the rest of us."

Despite my joking, however, it is evident that Kent is very uncomfortable with the subject. I do not want to push him too hard—even though I've had to in the past in order to get information out of him—but I cannot let my friend battle his inner demons alone. So I choose another way to try and get him to speak to me.

"Why don't you just tell her that you love her, Kent? What is the worst that could happen?"

Predictable as always, Kent launches into a long speech about duty and honor and putting one's liege above all else. And I, as I usually do when Kent speaks of such things, let my mind wander to other… More interesting thoughts. Like the fact that Dames Fiora and Farina would be stopping by Caelin in a few weeks to visit our little Florina… The thought of having all three beautiful sisters within the city's walls at the same time always set my heart a-flutter.

After a while though, Kent's voice droning in my ear gets more than a tad annoying. I slap my hand over his mouth and force him to look at me.

"Kent," I say sternly, and his eyes widen slightly. I don't think he ever expected me to be this aggressive, but I—contrary to popular belief—am capable of acting quite serious should the situation ever demand it. And this situation more than deserves seriousness.

"You, my boon companion, have a beautiful woman whom I suspect is more than willing to leave her kingdom for you. And you and I both know full well that Caelin isn't what Lady Lyndis wants—she'll most likely give our fair canton to Ostian or Pheraen control and leave for the plains once Lord Hausen—and believe me, I loathe to say it—leaves us. So don't give me any more of that rubbish about you and your duty." I stop and take a deep breath. "Besides, it's all a matter of syllables, anyway."

Kent looks at me as if I were the stupidest person on the face of the planet. I don't mind—I've gotten that look from many people, my own sweet mother included.

I continue before Kent has the chance to say anything. "Think about it. _Duty_ consists of two syllables, while _love_ simply rolls off the tongue in one. And telling someone _'I love you'_ is so much easier than saying _'It is my duty'_. Wouldn't you agree?"

Nodding slowly, Kent turns his face to look at me. "I suppose so."

"Exactly!" I scoot over so that I am sitting directly in front of Kent. "Now, let's practice."

My red-headed friend looks decidedly afraid. "Practice what?"

I sigh. "Those three little words you have to tell our beloved Lady Lyndis. Pretend I'm her!" I shift my legs and sit in what I hope is a demure, ladylike way… Then again, Lady Lyn is neither demure nor particularly ladylike. "I realize I'm not as beautiful as she, but just try."

"This is stupid," Kent says dryly.

"What's _stupid_," I say, "is that you won't tell a gorgeous woman like our lady that you love her even though it's quite literally a proven fact that she holds the same affection for you. Now," I take his hands in mine and flutter my eyelashes—Elimine, it's harder than I realized!—as fast as I can, "tell me what you want to say."

Kent gulps and squares his shoulders. He's sweating quite a bit now, but I suppose that it's from the sun. It's almost noon, after all.

"I… I want to tell you something."

I smile sweetly. "Yes?"

He gulps again, and for some reason the image of a lamb being led to slaughter appears in my mind. "I l-l-love you…"

From behind us, a voice shouts—_"No way!"_—and Kent and I turn our heads to see a very familiar figure with dark red hair running back to the castle, quiver in hand.

For a minute, there's only silence between us, and I dimly note how awkward it is.

I pull my hands away from Kent and cough quietly into my fist. "So…" I say, "I wonder what Wil was out here for?" Kent is looking at the ground, now, but I can still see his face; he's wearing the strangest expression…

"Sain," Kent says. His voice is dangerously quiet.

It is my turn to gulp. "Yes, my friend?"

"I suggest you run, now. As fast as you can."

"And why is that?" I stand up rather quickly and grab my lance from where it lies near my armor. I don't bother picking up my boots or my armor, either.

Kent looks up at me. I do believe that the expression on his face is the most frightening one I've ever seen—Nergal seems like a little woodland creature in comparison. "We wouldn't want anything to happen, would we?"

He says something else, too, but I'm so far away from him at that point that I can barely differentiate between his voice and the roaring of the wind in my ears.

-x-x-x-

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**Xirysa Says:** Aside from me giving up near the end (which ended up in the lamest ending ever), this was a blast to write. As in, ridiculously so. The title's rather lame too. Oh well. But I do hope that Kent learned something and talked to Lyn… XD At any rate, thanks for reading, and any feedback would be amazing!


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